naturecarved

the moon sits low 
like a spirit 
sunk into lavender grasslands 
washing our mountain edges 
waiting for the rest

in a gentle mouth it carries 
sailor-starved oceans
through solar hot bites
bold and ripe  
as a pomegranate 

she wades soft into dawn
— that uncertain 
current — each step a 
cross over state lines 
one universe to her next.

a string quartet plays beyond 
the river 
pine trees stretch to hear 
the waters sever
like a wilded life 

ancient tides ask questions 
people cannot hear 
—  they know 
their rhythmic laps 
do not bind truth to sand 

and the moth does not flicker 
but the flame flies to it 
while the kingless queen 
sits in her house 
of dust 

a forest asks children to 
shirk manicured memories 
for parents born, instead, 
of skylines 
and hope:

meet me in the nighttime 
cool and sound 
in our velvet black
ask me if I love — 
or do I hate us too?

girls naturecarved into women, men waiting 

then watch me spill 
secrets
only fated creatures 
and a bruised sky moon
dare to whisper 

mortal and bursting with 
our midnight light.